


Lalochezia - Anagapesis

by williamTspears



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 15:44:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2197461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williamTspears/pseuds/williamTspears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Lalochezia</b> - noun - The use of abusive language to relieve stress or ease pain.<br/><b>Anagapesis</b> - noun - The feeling when one no longer loves someone they once did. </p>
<p>(old drabble prompt response)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lalochezia - Anagapesis

In 1875, they had kissed. In 1876, they had shared a bed. By 1878, they were living together. Chores and intimacies shared, at first glance, they seemed perfectly in balance.  
They had their problems, however.  
Alan craved emotional stimulation. He needed it. While William felt anxious admitting so much as a “you look nice today”, and couldn’t bear for the life of him to say anything more personal than that.  
The fact was, by 1880, after 5 years of romance and partnership, William had never once said “I love you”, or any variance thereof.  
He did love Alan, he truly did, but he could not work his way past his own shell to show it. For all intents and purposes, he appeared to not care at all.  
For Alan, it was torture.  
Even during his most severe attacks, when William would hold him close, and stroke his hair, there was never any iota of a hint that Alan was more than a roommate with benefits.

In the winter of 1880, when the year was drawing to a close, Alan had had enough. He was doubting his choice to enter the relationship, and he needed an answer.  
“How do you feel about me?”  
Had been his question, posed to William as soon as the man had gotten home and hung up his jacket. The answer was predictably evasive, a declaration that Alan should know that well enough.  
But Alan didn’t know. How could he? How could he when William never initiated anything? How could he when he was the only one who ever expressed any emotion other than mild acceptance? How was he supposed to sustain these feelings when he was the only one putting effort towards it?  
William was barraged with Alan’s line of questioning, giving no response until he cut things short with two simple sentences.  
“If you do not feel fulfilled, you are free to leave. I do not mind.”  
Alan couldn’t believe it. Had William really felt that apathetic to the relationship the entire time?

In the winter of 1880, when the year was drawing to a close, Alan finally broke down.  
“Fucking bastard!” had been the first insult to leave his mouth, and it was not the last.  
William stood silently, face blank as Alan cussed him out. The lack of reaction just added to Alan’s anger, and his words began to slur in his screaming, until they were unintelligible, and given companionship by a stream of tears.  
When his ranting slowed, and he had nothing more to add, Alan could only bare his teeth when William squares his jaw, tilts his head upward in that ‘oh so holier than thou’ way he does, and says,  
“I repeat; If you do not feel fulfilled, you are free to leave. I do not mind.”  
Alan’s not sure what he’s doing himself, when he pulls his fist back and lets loose into William’s stomach. The man braces himself, letting out no more than a small grunt, and does not retaliate.

In the winter of 1880, when the year was drawing to a close, Alan had stormed out of their flat, leaving William to stand a few feet from the doorway, fists clenching in Alan’s absence and swallowing thickly.  
He did love Alan, he truly did, but he could not work his way past his own shell to show it. For all intents and purposes, he appeared to not care at all. He knew he could never respond to Alan’s emotions.

And if he could not be what Alan needed, then it was better for the both of them if things were to end here.


End file.
